“Don’t knock them,” I advise him. “They’re immensely useful in helping to recognise a dickhead.” I bite my lip. “I just don’t know why you picked me to make a point with Misha. We’re friends, and he’s never been bothered by anyone I’ve dated in the past. In fact, he’s still friends with a couple of my exes.”

“Oh, really?” he says silkily. “Come off it, Charlie.” I stare at him, and he smiles. “You have no idea, do you?” He laughs. “Oh, that’s priceless. The two of you are so blind.”

I narrow my eyes. “I know you’re trying for enigmatic but you’ve just ended up with twatty.”

“What’s the point in being enigmatic when I could write it across the sky and neither you nor Misha would recognise the truth?” I look blankly at him and he shakes his head, his mouth pursed in irritation. “I suppose you’re partially right. I went out with you because I liked your looks and you’re great company when you’re okay. But I have to admit that I did get some enjoyment from rubbing Misha’s face in it a bit. He gets everything he wants—men, work, everything. It’s all so easy for him. He even has you running to him for everything you need. Any problem you have, you go to him. Any triumph, and he’s the first person you share it with. I got the one thing he couldn’t have in my bed. It added a little frisson to the proceedings.”

I hide my flinch. “It’s nothing to do with the size of your little frisson, Harry. It’s what you do with it that counts,” I say coolly.

He laughs, but there’s little amusement in the sound. “It’s that sense of humour that’s so attractive about you, Charlie. Pity you don’t live up to your shop front. Someone really should let people know that all those good looks of yours are just false advertising.”

“Tell it to trading standards,” I say coldly. “I’ll get another room.”

“Don’t bother. I doubt I’ll be back to stay here anyway. There are plenty of other men in Brighton. You’re not the only one.” He looks hard at me. “Stay here. It doesn’t mean anything to me. But you keep this conversation to yourself. I’m not having my fucking business being gossiped about over the weekend, particularly not by that wanker Misha. I’ll see you later.”

“Oh no. How on earth will I count down the time until I’m reunited with your amazing company?”

“You’re just like Misha,” he says sourly. “Entirely too flippant. The two of you deserve each other.”